I feel, Therefore I am
by Eia San
Summary: How do you know you are alive? A thought can be created, distorted, passed on without much effort towards life, but a feeling…To know you are alive is to feel, but Ulquiorra knows nothing of that…yet… *UlqxHime* Rating may change in the future
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The sound of jostling steel joints sang out along the long hall, the stone capturing the noise and magnifying it into a clamorous procession. The bent wheels gave the carts progress a loping gait that only added to Ulquiorra's irritation as he moved determinedly down the hall.

His mind was wandering, an uncharacteristic attribute, but his feet moved inexorable without the need for concentration to guide them.

He paused outside the tall, cold door with his hands gripping, straining, on the tray's metal handle in sudden hesitation.

Ulquiorra breathed in deeply to try to force some clarity to his thoughts. It doesn't really work.

He can hear his master's words in his ear as clearly as if Aizen were saying them beside him now.

"The duty of the prisoners care I give to you Ulquiorra. I trust that you will be the most…perceptive candidate to assume the role of care taker. Her health and well being I am entrusting to you to preserve."

That perfectly timed pause only accentuated the Espada's uncertainty in the matter. He had no pre-requisite to truly qualify him for this task. Aizen voiced those presumptions without precedence.

Yet was this not a measure of Aizen's trust in him, that he might fulfil even the most basic of tasks with the full plate of authority behoved to him?

The sudden reflection that Grimmjow or Szael would probably forget to feed her, or even simply kill her on a whim, eased some of his chagrin.

He supposed, in the end, that ultimately he was a servant of Aizen; an order from him was an order to be fulfilled, even _if_ the subordinate thought his time could be better spent.

The stone ground against stone with an aching grate. But even with the thunderous noise of the doors parting reluctantly and the rattle of metal jostling porcelain, when Ulquiorra entered into the cell his charge did not move in response.

Her body was splayed carelessly across the bed, her bright hair fanning out to ripple starkly against white, austere sheets. She lay carelessly limp and completely unmindful of his presence.

Ulquiorra tried not to feel irritated as he glanced over at the tray by her bedside, his emerald gaze noting with dissatisfaction that her morning meal lies cold and untouched.

This would not do at all.

He walked pointedly to her bedside, reaching her in just three brisk strides. The click of his heals hitting the stone floor seemed to have roused her slightly, but she makes no move to turn and acknowledge him.

Ulquiorra is not like Grimmjow or other Espada; he is not overly sadistic or cruel. He is severe in his actions but only to the point of faultless completion. So when he reached down to lift Inoue Orihime from the bed, he did not intend to hurt her at all.

Her small gasp elicited surprise from Ulquiorra as he re-adjusted his hold on her arm to bring her up to a sitting position.

Inoue's eyes were overshadowed, the lids drooping down in a drunken expression. She looked up at him dolefully as Ulquiorra gently spread her fingers to straighten.

He had wondered why his loose grip had caused her pain. Dotted amongst the smooth contours of her palm was a scattering of angry red mouths grinning up at him.

The transfer of dried blood on her nails told him that the little crescent cuts had probably been inflicted from her clenching her fists too tightly. A wound made in great stress.

He raised his eyes to meet her gaze again; the sleepy confused film that had coated them before was now gone.

Inoue snatched her hand back suddenly, as if his touch burned her. He lets his own outstretched hands fall to his sides as he studied her closely, trailing along the shadows under her eyes to the gaunt sinking of her cheeks.

He is dissatisfied.

"Are you sick?"

The question is so sudden it throws Inoue off. She looks up at him in surprise, a crease furrowing her brow. She has let her confusion extend the silence too long.

"I will ask you again, are you sick?"

"N-no…"

"Then eat."

Ulquiorra retrieved the plate of food from his service tray, proffering the thickly sliced bread and cold meat within inches of her face. Orihime only looks at the meal apprehensively; she makes no move to take it from him.

"Your co-operation in this task is not necessary. Should you refuse to eat I will force it down your throat, either way you are going to ingest it."

Again, Ulquiorra proffers the plate and this time Inoue takes it. She picks up the smallest slice of bread, looking up uncertainly to meet his eyes before she takes a small bite from its edge.

He watches her eat silently, staring stonily down at Inoue until she is done, returning the plate to the cart herself.

As she stands up to do so, her shoulder brushes against Ulquiorra's chest and her hair snags against the fabric of his uniform. She doesn't notice, and as she turns to seat herself back onto the bed Ulquiorra watches unhindered as most of the bright strands pull away from him and fall back into its seamless flow at her back.

She dismisses him by lying back down, facing away from Ulquiorra as he retrieves the cart and begins to wheel it out of the cell, frowning down at the half finished meal.

He knows she has not been at Hueco Mondo a sufficient enough time to warrant a drop in needed dietary supplements, and the state of her being and wounds on her hands only baffles him more.

He tried to deduce the cause of her changes but his knowledge is just not sufficient enough to supply all of the pieces to fit it together. She was just so incomprehensible to him, like a leaf trapped within ice she seemed to be frozen within their stoic world, unable to move freely anymore.

He had seen her many times as she had interacted within her own world; even under the stress of her decision to come here willingly she had not been so drawn. It was a problem he knew not how to fix.

But Aizen's words were still whispering in his ear. "Her health and well being I am entrusting to you to preserve."

It was his duty, charged to him by Aizen, that he keep her in good health. The sight he had witnessed just before in the cell he knew to be not meeting that requirement.

But in order to regulate her again into a stable condition he would have to understand what was affecting her will and health and deduce the most appropriate way to fix it.

"In order to repair her I must understand her first."

His words fell away into the empty hall outside of Inoue's cell, swallowed up by the metallic jostling as Ulquiorra wheeled the cart forward determinedly, a few strands of bright hair falling off of his shirt front unnoticed.

--

**I have a definite fascination with Inoue's situation within Hueco Mondo. After I read over the prologue I found it written….well a little differently to what I am used to. But then again I have never written from the perspective on an emotionless character before 0.o**

**Regards, Eia**


	2. Chapter 1

**His Initiation**

It was bold. He was visiting her cell not within the appointed hours. Time was a difficult thing to judge in Hueco Mondo, there were no clocks to count the minutes or organise the hours. An Arrancar had no real need for dates or time.

Night and day shifted only over the measuring of a few shadows; the landscape was only a touch darker in the 'night' hours. But even so, he knew it to be well and truly into the night and this was the time for rest. He had no tray of food or direct orders from Aizen to pass onto the prisoner; this call was solely his initiative. A very bold thing for an Espada who always followed orders.

He entered into the still room, his robe whispering upon the stone floor. His eyes scanned through the dim light and rested upon the sleeping couch. He frowned at the realization that it had been moved recently; scuff marks on the floor an indication that the prisoner had probably dragged it about herself without authorisation. Why?  
The couch had been positioned against the wall to allow for optimum space in the cell, now it sat in the middle of the room for no purpose that he could deduce save that it now fell directly into the path of the moon's light from the barred window. It seemed an incomprehensible act to his mind.

Ulquiorra logged away the incident to be analysed later; if there was significance in the action he would figure it out. Instead he moved towards her bed on silent feet, careful not to wake her just yet.

He paused a few feet away in shock when a sound erupted from the seemingly sleeping body. He had been so sure he had not been loud enough to wake her, had his reiatsu alerted her to his presence?

A small moan sounded again then the sheets shifted and her face fell into view. The prisoner's brow was creased slightly but her eyes were firmly shut and her breathing slow and deep. She had all the appearances of slumber save the noises and the roaming of her eyes underneath shuttered lids. A small twitch shook through her body followed by another incomprehensible noise of distress.

Ulquiorra took the next two steps to her side then lent down uncertainly to shake carefully at her shoulder. She awoke with a start, her arm lashing out at him as she sat bolt upright in bed. Fear and confusion lingered in her eyes until her breathing began to steady again. She looked up at him uncertainly.

"U-Ulquiorra…"

"Are you ill? You were making discomforting sounds and…moving in your sleep."

He had never felt so uncertain of himself until that moment. He stood over this meek human questioning after her health for reasons he had yet to fathom. An order was an order but even this felt excessive. For a moment he considered simply turning about and leaving her cell as if he had never entered. But something in her voice made him stay to hear her out.

"Oh, no I am not ill. I was just having a…a bad dream."

He frowned, "A dream? What is that?"

"You know a dream I…you don't have dreams Ulquiorra-san?"

Silence. Ulquiorra's mouth goes tight. He wants to speak but the words won't get past his lips. A dream? He had never heard of such a thing, or at least he believed he had not. The word was somehow familiar, like the hint of a scent it tickled his senses but was no more substantial to him the longer he lingered over it. He wanted to know suddenly with a zeal that surprised him, but he could not bring himself to ask her. The disbelief in her voice had under-minded him.

"Are you well?" He chooses his words carefully, dismissing the previous conversation out of pride.

"I told you it was only a nightmare, I am not sick." He frowns at the misunderstood exasperation. He tries again.

"But how do you _feel_?" With the emphasis comes dawning realisation. He watches as her eyes go round in sudden recognition of his question. He tries not to feel irritated by her next words.

"Why would you care, you couldn't understand feelings." She does not speak in rudeness or anger, but through a frail note in her voice he hears her disregard for him.

"Why not?"

"…what?"

"Why could I not understand? If a mere human such as yourself, whose powers and age are far less than my own, can interact with such a thing then it does not seem impossible for me to learn and understand it as you do." His voice is calm, rational. Hers is hesitant, unsure.

"I don't know if you can _learn_ to feel."

"Why not?"

"Well it's just…" Silence. He waits.

"It's just something you are born with I think. I don't remember ever learning how to feel, it was just something that was always there before….well anything."

He is still not satisfied with her answer. "I was 'born' in a past life, the same as you, I was human…once."

She only nods weakly. He can see by the expression on her face that she does not really believe his words. But there is something else there, a curious glint in her eye that makes him wonder.

It took him a moment to realise that the look in her eye is interest. He permits himself only the briefest flaring of satisfaction before he simply turns from her and departs from the room.

He doesn't look back but Ulquiorra feels with certainty that her gaze follows him all the way out, still with that stirring of interest wetting her eyes, and vows that he would come to understand her yet.

--


	3. Chapter 2

**Her Intentions**

Inoue lay still in her stagnant white sheets, willing herself to fall back into the dark arms of sleep. But her thoughts were toiling about laboriously within her; there was no chance to just heedlessly cede into an oblivious dream.

She kicked at the sheets until they tumbled from her bed, her legs swinging over to follow them. Her forehead was clammy and left a residue of sweat on her palm as she dragged a hand across it.

He had left hours ago, departing from her chambers with less ceremony than as he had entered. The encounter seemed too surreal so that, even now, Inoue had to wonder if it had truly happened at all. A small part of her figured universe had been torn by that strange conversation and even as she tried to dismiss it, she could feel his presence echoing in the room; she could taste him in the air as she breathed it in. She felt smothered by it.

How could someone not dream?

The thought was almost sickening in the way it unsettled her. Of course everybody had dreams; they were as natural as sleep itself. It was as if he had told her that he didn't breathe or eat.

But then she was doing it again; thinking of Ulquiorra as something familiar, as something _human_. But he was not. For all that he looked like a young man and though his skin seemed to be as yielding as her own he was very, very different from her. She knew it was important to remember that.

Inoue rose from her bed and glided across the floor distractedly; discarding items of clothing as she went so that there was a trail of abandoned black and white leading up to the bathroom door. She kicked the remaining under clothes apathetically into the corner and waited as the bath tub began to fill with hot, cloudy water.

This would probably be the highlight of her day. Orihime tried not to dwell on the discouraging thought as she stood, stark naked, in the middle of the sterile room. She was so tired of white; everything in this place seemed stripped of colour.

The sudden memory came to her from long ago of sitting in art class and overhearing a conversation between two girls. One had asked her friend what her favourite colour was and after a small pause the girl had replied that it was black.

"_Black? You can't have black as a favourite colour!"_

"_Well why not?"_

"_Because black and white aren't _colours,_ stupid, they are _shades!"

The girl had been right, black and white were only shades and this was place was so devoured of colour and character that it depressed her. The walls were so stark and everything that she touched and dressed in was equal in its severe consistency. The only break from black on white was the bright slash of teal or pink hair that adorned the occupants of Hueco Mondo.

But even then it was such a violent contrast against the arrancar's sterile uniforms that she couldn't really appreciate the disparity. It made their characteristic features too extreme, as if they were on the verge of absurdity.

She thought suddenly of Ulquiorra. His skin was almost as pale as the folds of his severe uniform and with his thick black hair and dark lips it was as if he were _engineered_ for his role as arrancar, born to serve under Aizen as the ultimate servant, loyal in even physical disposition. Save that extreme splash of colour that broke the automaton façade.

His eyes were such a violent green; Inoue had never seen such eyes…

Orihime yelped in surprise as something hot touched her foot. She cursed as she scrambled over to the bath tub and yanked on the tap until the faucet stopped releasing water. How ditzy of her to let the bath tub over flow like that.

She sighed heavily, pushing the heel of her palms into her eyes and rubbing them in consternation. She just never seemed to be really with it anymore, her body was still anchored to this world and she ate and moved as usual but she just wasn't _there_.

"I feel like even the colours within my mind are being drained in this place. Soon I will be as lifeless as the white washed walls."  
Her words echoed strangely in the small space of the bathroom and she wished suddenly that she had never voiced them at all, as if the walls might actually have ears and turn against her.

She laughed mirthlessly at the sudden thought of having to fight against the walls of her cell before she discarded her silly fear and moved over to the tub. The water was a little too hot but she knew she would get used to the temperature soon. Besides, she was usually in so long that the water turned icy cold before she got out.

But she didn't mind really, this was her favourite place in Hueco Mondo, which didn't really say much about the hospitality or appeal of the place. But she felt safe here, safer than anywhere else. At least when she was in the bath she could wash away the cold feeling that always crept along her skin. It was warm and familiar and sometimes, when she held her breath and ducked her head under the water she could almost believe that she might raise her head and break the surface to find she was in her tub at home, in the cosy little bathroom in her apartment. She could almost smell the fruity fragrance of the shampoo bottles that lined the lip of the sill or feel the fluffy pink bath mat that sat beside the tub.

Homesickness washed over Orihime so strongly that she had to choke back a sob. She missed her little apartment so much; she would give anything to be able to just spend one night there again. She just needed the familiarity, the comfort that came with routine. She would cook herself dinner, sometimes enough for two out of habit, and sit herself down in front of her brother to eat. She would take a long bath, singing loudly all the while until her fingers and toes looked like the wrinkly appendages of an old woman. She would finish her homework while eating desert, dressed in her favourite blue night gown. Then she would crawl into bed and say goodnight before drifting off to sleep to dream pleasant dreams.

There wasn't anything really special about the way she spent her nights, but they were hers and she had never realised how wonderful and safe living within them had been until she had come here and lost it all. It wouldn't even be that bad if only she had someone here with her to remind her of home. But there was no one to reassure her, not like the last time she had been away from home for so long in an unfamiliar place. There was no Ishida to bandage her arm, there was no Chad to watch her back, there was no Rukia to follow…and there was no Ichigo to promise her that everything was going to be alright.

Inoue wiped harshly at the wetness on her cheeks before she swallowed back a sob and took a deep breath. She pushed herself under the water, holding onto the sides of the tub to keep her suspended just below the surface.

The world was indecipherable from where she watched it, the bubbles that issued from her lungs the only thing that gave definition around her. She could be anywhere looking up from beneath the surface; all she had to do was believe it.

She closed her eyes from the view and simply floated there, suspended in this weightless place that balanced so precariously in time. She willed with all her heart that when she did open her eyes next she would see something familiar, something that felt like home.

But even with all of her heart behind that wish, or maybe even because of it, Inoue was just too afraid to open her eyes and rise to the surface to meet it.

--


	4. Chapter 3

**His Salvage**

Ulquiorra liked patterns. They existed everywhere, and within everyone. A theme of recurring events could be noticed in the nature of most things and he noted them down where he could. Biological patterns were easy but behavioural…that was harder to figure out sometimes. He watched everyone closely in order to work out their individual patterns because to know how something worked was to have an advantage over it.

Grimmjow, for example, was a rather easy pattern to figure out. The Sexta Espada's life was ruled by two elements; fighting and mouthing. He lived for both. His pattern of violence and anger was easy to predict and even his habit of not following orders was a kind of way to calculate his movements. Offer Grimmjow a challenge and he will be unable to resist responding, present a worthy adversary and he would defile all conduct to see that they are beaten, or die trying. These elements repeat in a predictable manner, it was nature's law.

Ulquiorra had been presented with a subject that needed to be predicted, understood. But he couldn't grasp the elements that influenced Inoue…he couldn't figure out her pattern.

He had expected to find her in bed. It was early and her habit of late was to keep to her sheets for as long as possible in order to wait out the morning. But she was not.

He left the food tray by the bed's side as he followed a distinct trail. His footsteps went around her white bed sheet which had been pulled out like an arrow, his astute green eyes following the dismembered black and white bodies of clothing that lay like carnage from him to the bathroom.

He tested the handle on the bathroom door to find it unlocked before he pushed it carefully open on silent hinges. Ulquiorra tried to peer through the steam that sat so densely in the room that he couldn't see more than a few feet in front of him. There was little to find in the room but he thought he could make out the large distinct shape of the tub within the gloom. He breathed out into the hot air finding the heat on his skin an unpleasant sensation.

The bright splash of colour gave her away almost instantly and Ulquiorra moved through the thick air towards the bathtub unperturbed. But as he bent his tall frame down closer he stilled suddenly.

At first glance it looked like her body was simply suspended within nothingness. Her head lolled slowly to turn to her left shoulder, disturbing her bright hair so that it moved and flowed around her like a living creature.

But the crystalline illusion was broken as her brow scrunched and a short, desperate breath escaped from her lungs to bubble to the surface. She was alive.

He plunged his hands into the warm water and scooped up her rigid body from the tub. Hot water cascaded from her skin onto the front of his uniform and her thick wet hair was clinging uncomfortably to his neck even as she began to struggle weakly in his hold.

He dumped her soggy, warm body on the bed without much grace as he turned to the discarded breakfast tray. He retrieved the jug of water and moved back to Inoue's side. Her face was flushed red, as was the rest of her body. She had dragged up a bed sheet to cover herself modestly but the exertion had obviously been too much judging by her harsh breathing and collapsed frame.

He tried to deafen his irritation as he dunked the edge of her sheet into the metal canister. Inoue reacted violently to the sudden pull and gripped the sheet around her more tightly so that her knuckles actually showed through white.

He ignored her efforts and pushed aside her waving arms without trouble. He dampened her hot face with the wetted edge of the blanket, and Inoue soon began to relax under his cathartic ministrations.

"Your skin's temperature is too hot."

The comment was left hanging in the air as he moved to re-soak the blanket. Ulquiorra managed to wipe down her face and arms before she reacted to his touch again. He had attempted to peel back the sheet to continue bringing her temperature down but Inoue had slapped his hand away weakly and clutched at her chest defensively. He relented his ministrations and instead handed her a cup of water. She looked at it pensively before sipping it with caution.

Ulquiorra was uncomfortably aware of the warmth spreading across his chest. There was a distinct outline of dampness from where the cloth of his uniform had been wetted by Inoue's body. He wanted to rub at the transference of heat, to pull the clinging material away from his body but he stood still. He waited; the perfect image of composure. He needed to draw her out, shame would be sufficient to break her silence.

"I-I don't usually…that is, the warm water soothes me and I just didn't realise how long I was under, I'm sorry I…"

Inoue's words trailed off into silence as she stared down into the contents of the cup in her lax grip. Ulquiorra took the moment to assemble all the facts together cohesively; she hadn't been eating properly, she had a tendency to sleep excessively and had recklessly engaged in an action that had endangered her well being. The rate of her personal deterioration was accelerating beyond his calculations, he needed to reassess the situation more closely but time was not on his side.

The arrancar pulled a chair in close to the bed's side and seated himself upon it. He tried to relax his gaze and assume a more approachable façade. He let his shoulders drop and his spine slant forward until his arms rested upon his knees. He had seen her kind assume this position before; this was the moment where he would find out if adapting to the charge's environment would yield him a better response.

Ulquiorra noted that almost immediately Inoue turned her gaze from her hands to his face; she hardly ever looked him in the eye. It was now or never.

"Tell me," he questioned, his voice raised little above a whisper, "how do you feel?"

--

**I have to apologize for the delay in updating. I fell off the ball and straight into writer's block, but I am struggling through it back into the mindset. I tried my hand at AMV's the other day to try to get the creative juices flowing….I am yet to discover whether it succeeded or not =/**

**Thank you all for your patience, **

**Regards Eia**


	5. Chapter 4

**Her Hesitations**

She was finding it hard to breathe. She was sucking air into her lungs but it was getting caught there and causing her chest to shudder as she breathed out. Her mouth was dry but she didn't move to sip the water that was in her hands. There was something wrong with this scene.

If she looked at Ulquiorra with her eyes unfocused she could almost believe that a normal man of warm flesh and beating heart sat before her. The mask of bone could even be ignored and she might be able to believe that this relaxed frame was somehow familiar and comforting. But she hesitated.

Those eyes were staring at her with an emerald emptiness.

She could lose herself in so many things, the layers of colour in a lock of hair, the individuality of a beam of sunlight even the maps that were joined on skin grafting from finger to palm to wrist. But not those eyes.

They were blank walls that never let her in; she couldn't transcend into a deeper a place when she looked into them. People's eyes were always so animated and honest; a smile could lie but the lie would not reach their eyes. She had once heard someone say that eyes were the gateway to a person's soul; she could believe that.

So when she looked into Ulquiorra's too-green gaze and saw only her own reflection within them she felt uneasy. If his eyes could be so empty, then what kind of soul did he keep?

But even so her mouth began to move unconsciously. "I-I feel lonely!"

Her loud proclamation echoed around her cavernous cell. She waited for Ulquiorra to react negatively to her sudden outburst but he sat just as he had, his frame patient and eyes trained on her unwaveringly.

"I miss my home. My little apartment may not have seemed like much but it was cosy and safe and I had good memories there. And everything in the apartment was….unique. My colourful glasses, the patterns on the coffee mugs, the decorations on my calendar; it was like my house had a personality of its own!"

Inoue glanced around her, "It's very different from this place. I don't feel comfortable here. It seems so sterile; it has no personality at all. And it's so cold. I never feel _warm_ in this place. Do you find that Ulquiorra-san?"

She saw the small stiffening of his shoulders; he had not expected her to ask something of him.

"Cold?"

"Yes, like a chill on your skin."

Ulquiorra's eyes moved down to look more closely at his own clasped hands. She thought she might have seen the edge of confusion twitch at the corner of his lips and a sudden impulse took over her.

Inoue shifted forward and reached out a hand to lay it across Ulquiorra's pale fingers. He tensed beneath her sudden touch but he did not move to pull away. Inoue felt the temporal differences as a world between them. To the eyes they were already so different; his hands were large and pale, to the point of stark whiteness, and his fingers were long and firm, whereas her own looked sun-kissed with colour and quite visibly smaller and more fragile.

But the differences between them were still more extreme.

Ulquiorra's skin was tight and cold. When she had pressed her own fingers against it the skin had remained taught under her attention so that it almost felt like she was holding hands with marble.

Her question almost seemed too absurd to her now. He _was_ the cold.

She pulled her hand away slowly without meeting his gaze, feeling suddenly like a fool. She lifted the cup she had been holding in her other hand to her lips and drank deeply; eyes squeezed shut so that she missed the small shift Ulquiorra made as he lifted a hand to cover the spot on his fingers where her own had rested moments before.

"Is that why you were in there so long?"

"Ulquiorra-san?"

His green eyes flickered towards the bathroom door which still stood open on its hinges. Inoue could see the puddles of water that lined the floor and led a tell-tale trail up to her bedside. She nodded guiltily.

"It's….it's not a cold that I have known before. Not like when it snows and your nose turns red and fog comes out when you speak. It seems like the cold in Hueco Mondo is _under_ the skin, a chill that gets into your bones and makes you cold from the inside out. That's how I know that my dreams are all lies when I dream about home, because even when I am happy at home in my dreams I can still feel the coldness within me. Ah! But a warm bath seems to be the only cure! It soaks warmth down into your belly, so sometimes when I am in the bath I can almost forget where I am."

She smiled weakly, feeling suddenly the tears that were beginning to smart in her eyes. Talking of such things was making her homesick, but she didn't want to cry in front of him. She felt like a floodgate was about to open up and pour out from within her.

Stupidly she tried to keep speaking as a distraction. "And there is so little to keep me away from thinking of such things. The more time I have to myself the more I think about home and the people there…and there is nothing but time for me in this place! I spend so long wondering where everyone is, worrying about what kind of things they might be going through. It's hopeless to think so much about it, but there is just nothing else in this place to distract time with. All I seem to do is worry."

A few treacherous tears had slid down across her cheeks and Inoue brushed them aside quickly. She knew she had said too much, but everything had been bottled up within her for so long that. It had only taken the smallest nudge from the Espada to send it all tumbling out. But in a way she was relieved. Just voicing the feelings she had been struggling with had eased some of the tension within her.

She took a deep breath and swallowed the rest of her unshed tears.

"I am going to make a deal with you." Inoue startled at the sound of Ulquiorra's voice; he had been silent for so long. "A deal?"

"It is only a small agreement; if you promise that you will take more care for your well-being I will try to help you feel better."

Inoue's mouth fell open in sudden surprise. His words had been the farthest thing she had ever expected to hear. Coming from an Espada it felt like some kind of a trap. But as she turned the statement around in her head she could find no danger in any angle she looked from. She was perplexed.

"You want me to…take care for my well-being?"

"Correct. That means eating all the allotted food at the designated meal hours, resting adequately and at appropriate times and ceasing to engage in any and all acts that could cause detriment to your health. The incident today being an example of an unsatisfactory action."

"A-and in return…"

"I will endeavour to make you make feel better."

The statement was so simple, yet Inoue's mind could not help but pull away from it. In any other place, at any other time, with any other person she might have been able to simply take the words for what they were. But all that she knew of this place and this man was resisting the simplicity of his request.

Ulquiorra sat waiting in silence; his unmoving eyes not even blinking as they watched for her acceptance or denial.

She had never had to think so hard about a question in all her life. She wondered briefly what he would do if she simply said 'no'. What could he do?

But to ask such a thing of her in the first place…to answer negatively seemed impossible. It would cost her almost nothing to do what it was he asked. The fact that he even had to ask showed her how detached she had been lately to not even notice her lax in self preservation.

"Alright, I accept."

It was all he needed from her. Ulquiorra rose from his seat and silently retrieved the food cart, leaving her breakfast tray behind. He didn't wait to watch her eat as he had before but instead turned and walked out of her cell without another word.

After a few minutes Inoue herself rose from the bed. She picked up the clothes that she had so carelessly left lying about what seemed like hours before and dressed herself. She took care to comb her hair and wash her face before moving towards the tray left behind.

She didn't feel hungry but she picked up the spoon regardless and seated herself to begin eating. The red blush to her skin slowly began to fade along with the dizziness. And when the final vestiges of the warm print left by the hot bath had been consumed by the familiar cold that was set within her bones she sighed. The familiar cold had returned but for some reason she didn't feel as lonely.

--


	6. Chapter 5

**His Remuneration**

Power is a difficult thing to measure. It was a fool who only associated power with physicality and brute strength. Aizen was not as tall as Gin nor as brawny as Tosen. In fact he did not physically dominate many of his Espada, but he didn't need to. Such simple mentalities were better left to the mindless hollows.

It was the cunning who chose a simpler form; the wolf hiding in the sheep's skin was always the most deadly.

And so it was with Aizen. He was not an overly intimidating figure; he seemed to always be casually apathetic towards the events forming around him. He did not come across as bored or lazy, like Stark for example, but more so as if nothing around him ever had the ability to shock him. Sometimes Ulquiorra even had the instinct that the ex-shinigami was almost omnipotent; nothing exceeded the realm of his knowledge or his control.

So when at times like these, he was to report to Aizen he felt it more a ritual than anything else. But Ulquiorra still stood before Aizen and made an account of all the happenings he had witnessed in Hueco Mundo without pause.

"And what of the other task I have required? Have you fulfilled your duty as caretaker?"

Aizen had listened to Ulquiorra with his eyes loosely closed, as if in concentration. But now he opened them slightly and smiled.

"I am satisfied that the prisoner's state of well being is adequate at this time."

A silence met the statement and lingered in the air long after his words had died away. At any other time he would have filled in with more details about his observations until Aizen was satisfied enough to dismiss him. But Ulquiorra's mouth did not open again, even when a small laugh purred from Gin's throat as the second in command watched the exchange from the shadows.

"If you are satisfied then so am I. You may go."

Ulquiorra bowed deeply, his hand resting on his chest in a sign of fealty, before he turned and briskly trotted out of the chamber.

"o-oh! That was a'bit different." Gin jeered as he lent forward endearingly. Aizen only shifted slightly as a small sound of amusement echoed in his throat.

"Ya don't s'pose interesting things are a'foot do ya cap?"

"It hardly matters."

Gin crooked an eyebrow comically at the confidence in Aizen's tone.

"Disloyalty towards a pervasive power isn't in his nature."

"What, his hollow nature?"

The edge of Aizen's white robes quivered as he arose from the dais, whispering upon the stone floor reticently before the shadows in the corridor swallowed them up. Only a voice drifted back from the departure to part with Gin as he slumped amusedly against the abandoned chair.

"As if he had any other nature left to him."

--

Inoue's legs were aching by the third flight of stairs. It wasn't because she was a particularly unfit girl. She always looked forward to PE classes and had a frequent route she walked upon from home, to school, to the grocery store and that nice little donut shop near the water front…

But she hadn't been exactly pro-active since coming to Hueco Mundo; her small cell didn't really afford her a great amount of options when it came to exercise.

But even when her calves began to protest at the sudden workout, Inoue kept her eyes set determinedly on Ulquiorra's slim back. So determinedly in fact that she was able to notice the small unsettling shifts in his shoulders as he became more and more frustrated with her slow pace.

She wondered suddenly if anyone had ever told Ulquiorra that patience was a virtue.

"Where are we going Ulquiorra-san?"

Silence.

Its not like she was un-used to it by now, but the sudden break in regime had coaxed the smouldering embers of her optimism into a small flame that licked at her boldness. She had found herself in a good mood for once.

"Its been a while since I was outside. Its much cooler out here though, not that its hot in my cell. But I don't get much of a breeze coming through that little window."

Silence. His back still unbending.

"But don't you think it's a bit hazardous? I mean this staircase is so open; there isn't even a railing to hold onto. I remember seeing a health and safety plaque in the kitchens in home ec class that had a list of all kinds of cautions on it, like to always wear mittens when handling things around the oven or to always cut away from yourself. Maybe there should be one at the bottom of these stairs, after all if I tripped and fell I could go straight over the edge and it's a long way down from all the way-"

"We're here."

Ulquiorra stepped aside from the stairs to lean, hands in pockets, against the wall to Inoue's right. The stair case had curved up and around a spire and ended in a flat plateau at the top, a single seemingly useless wall poised behind them.

She watched Ulquiorra, expecting some kind of instruction, but his eyes were closed and his head bowed dismissively. Not sure of what else to do, she sat down a good distance from the edge, her legs almost audibly sighing in relief. As she shifted about to free her skirts from twisting Inoue saw a sliver of silver light out of the corner of her eye.

Forgetting her previous apprehension about the edge, she crawled forward almost to the brink and stared out with wide eyes. It was a stairway to heaven.

At first glance that was all she could think of to describe it. A set of silver stairs were leading off into the distance, climbing up towards a very large and full moon. But as she drank up the incredible scene before her she finally noticed the truth behind the illusion.

The moon light was reflecting off of the tips of the sand dunes, making it seem as though they were solid platforms that lead straight up. It was so perfect, they were almost exactly at even spacing and the moon was at just the right height…she had never seen anything so incredible.

"Ulquiorra-san look!" She exclaimed, pointing excitedly as she turned back to gain his attention. But he wasn't looking at the moon's stairway; he was looking at her, with those calculating eyes.

The smile quivered suddenly, threatening to tumble from her lips. As incredibly beautiful as the scene was, it would have been so much more wonderful if she had had someone to share it with. Oh, Ulquiorra was there of course but he wasn't _sharing_ the view with her. He was presenting it to her; he himself had no interest in it. A glance at his sombre eyes told her that he only saw the beauty of it through her. She was a like a wonder meter. He could look at it and understand the unpredictability of such an occurrence, but he could only gauge its true worth through the level of Inoue's exclamations.

She turned away from him, suddenly a little less pleased. She wondered how Chad or Rukia would have probably really liked this scene as a thought began to settle in her mind.

Rukia probably _would _have really liked it, might have even pointed and exclaimed in wonder too. Rukia, a Shinigami, would have seen the beauty in the moment. But Ulquiorra, the Espada, did not.

Why?

She turned back towards the Arrancar. His eyes were closed again. She swallowed suddenly, wetting her dry mouth with her tongue before she spoke, buying time; gathering courage. "Ulquiorra-san?"

His eye lids parted slowly, revealing their deep green depths leisurely. But she doesn't speak just yet, she waits for it. "Yes?" He gives his verbal reply grudgingly.

Then she drops it, the bombshell, "Do you remember dying?"

His eyes widened then narrowed, his demeanour changing almost instantly. His hands fell out of the folds of his pockets, as if getting ready for some sort of attack. She gave it a moment, knowing that if he didn't answer in another 30 seconds then he wouldn't be answering her at all.

She counted it out in her head to be sure; _26, 27, 28, 29, 30…guess not._

"You know, when I was small I used to think that when I died so too would everything else."

She stood up slowly, taking care to smooth out the wrinkles in her dress. "But that was when I was _really_ small and I thought K town was the whole world! To me it was big enough."

"The allusions of the small minded." Inoue startled at the sound of his voice and turned towards Ulquiorra to return his steady gaze.

"I think its more that things don't need to be so big for children, they are happy with the smaller things. They live in the 'now' and do what's right for them in the present. They move from moment to moment so quickly that they don't really feel all that much regret about things. I remember only feeling sad about things for a short time and then moving on. It didn't take much to change my mood, because I was so easy going and carefree when I was so small. Regrets…I didn't have many of those. I wish I could be a kid again."

She laughed nervously, her voice breaking at the end of her question. "Do you remember being young?"

Ulquiorra pushed off from the wall and stepped towards her. She didn't back away, partly because she recalled the edge of the plateau and partly because his stern eyes held her there. When he was right in front of her, using that extra height he had to tower above her, he finally answered one of her questions.

"Those things are meaningless to me now; there is no point in remembering. It is one of you human's great weaknesses that you dwell so much on the past. You sit here and whine about a time you have already lived, its pathetic. You keep dwelling on the things you remember so you fixate your goals on things you can't even have. You waste today and jeopardise tomorrow by wishing to be somewhere else instead of conquering what's immediately before you. That is why I _chose_ to forget, that is why I am stronger than you."

Inoue bowed her head at his chastising. In a way he was right. He was stronger than her because he seemed to deal with things as they came to him, and dismissed those he could no longer change. She realised suddenly that the whole time she had been at Hueco Mundo she had been longing unnecessarily. She would only think about the past and all the things she hadn't done and wished she could be somewhere else. But she had been wasting her time.

She hadn't done anything for the now; she barely even paid attention to the present at all. She couldn't take a step towards returning home if she had both feet firmly rooted in the past. She had to deal with what was now, and accept the reality that was presented to her. She had to move forward.

She looked up and smiled at Ulquiorra, finding amusement in the way his brow furrowed at her sudden change. The Arrancar had taught her something very valuable.

"You're very smart Ulquiorra-san; you sound almost like a teacher, like your…"

**["Human"]**

Her mouth closed over the word, trapping it inside. Sometimes he did seem that way, maybe not always 'alive' like she was but…there was a definite human quality to Rukia, something soft that Ulquiorra seemed to lack…or perhaps it was more that Ulquiorra had something other Shinigami didn't have.

Inoue's eyes flickered down to the hole in Ulquiorra's chest. Had something been taken or given when it had been made? What was there?

She lifted her hands up suddenly to cover the hole in Ulquiorra's chest with both her hands. His skin felt cold on her finger tips and then towards the centre…nothing.

She wondered suddenly that Ulquiorra hadn't pushed her hands aside yet with a 'useless woman' jibe that usually came after her ramblings. She noticed that his hands were stiff rods by his side. Frozen, it seemed, in the midst of an action.

She looked up and knew a sudden moment of distress. She had never seen him make such a face!

His eyes were wide, too wide. The whites around them making his iris seem too small. His mouth was parted slightly and moving as if he were finding it hard to breath. He was frozen stiff like a statue as if in… fear?

"U-ulquiorra-san?"

The word seemed to be his catharsis for suddenly his hands shot up to catch at her wrists and pull her touch from him violently. His eyes twitched away from Inoue's, moving to look beyond her, _through_ her. His grip on her wrists tightened suddenly and she yelped in surprise and pain.

Then **pop**, the moment was broken like a soap bubble, and the wild franticness was soaked from his demeanour, replaced with a stiff posture and a look that sent the blood draining from Inoue's face.

"Don't ever touch me like that again."

--

**I am so sorry that this update has taken so long. I want to apologise with sincerity to those waiting for an update. I will be more diligent with the next chapters so thank you everyone for your patience!**

**I know it's shameless, advertising it here! But when I had writers block I think I mentioned that I tried my hand at amvs? Well I am not particularly fantastic at it but I think it helped a little, and I made pertaining to this fiction, so the link is below if anyone is interested;**

**.com/watch?v=KOCy-i8qTaM  
**

**.com/watch?v=4_gb6CIEWbY**


	7. Chapter 6

**Her Solidarity **

It was becoming all too predictable. Wake up groggy with a head full of haunts and a heart full lead.

Wait.

The waiting was the worst because she always woke up too early, but sleep never stayed with her long. She would get up and brush her hair, wash her face and practice smiling. "Good morning!"

Her voice sounded strained, even to her own pitch deprived ears. She would clear her throat and try again; "Good morning." See, wasn't that much better?

Then she would wait again, sitting on the edge of her bed obediently until she heard the tell tale noises down the hall. She blessed that bent wheel that rattled the cart so boisterously. The door would groan and swing open teasingly to reveal-

Then she lets it out; the breath she had held at the first sounds of the cart. It was another servant today.

It had been three days since the events on the spire, yet no matter how many times Inoue turned the scenes about in her head she could never quite figure out what it was she had done so terribly wrong.

Had it been her touch? Was Ulquiorra so reviled by the thought of their skin meeting? But she had touched him before and never seen him react so violently.

Could it have been what she had said, her questions about his death? It seemed likely, but he had answered her calmly enough. Or had it simply been a combination of all the things she had done and said that evening.

She had been bold, surprisingly so even to herself. But she had felt more like herself that night then she had in a while and had perhaps taken her curiosity too far. Taking her up there to see the moon…it was probably the most considerate thing anyone had done for her since she had arrived here. And though Ulquiorra may not have truly understood what such a view and a trip might have meant to her, ultimately he had gone out of his way to take her there; he had tried to fulfil the bargain they had struck, the one she had almost forgotten about.

"_If you promise that you will take more care for your well-being I will try to help you feel better."_

He had managed to go about helping her with a surprisingly innate action. And yet she had angered him so, to the point where he would actually desist from seeing her on a daily basis out of…what, disgust? Animosity?

She knew she should give it up. He was technically her enemy, a hollow no less. A creature as far from her physical state as possible. They're values never aligned; where he desired dominance and power she only craved a friendly face and a feeling of home. And while her heart pulsed so loudly with life at night that she could hear it beating in her ears, Ulquiorra was enveloped in silence.

But even with the odds and reasoning stacked against her, and even if he always treated her as a task, as an inferior being…Ulquiorra was the closest thing she had to a companion in this place and no matter the reason, he had attempted to help her by way of a pact, one she had agreed to.

"A man's word is his honour." She exclaimed, clenching her fists in sudden excitement. The servant that waited attentively at the end of the room only looked up at her sudden outburst before returning his eyes to the floor.

Inoue squared her shoulders, unperturbed by the lacking response, before she picked up her fork and began to eat enthusiastically, as if her very life depended upon its consumption.

--

"Nothing. There is nothing." Ulquiorra's fingers retracted from his chest slowly. He glanced at them momentarily as they hovered before him, his eyes roving over their starch folds before he shoved them into the deeper recesses of his robe's pockets. If he had been more prone to letting his emotions manifest he might have laughed at himself. But he couldn't even find the humour in his sudden obsession.

His pockets were just a distraction, a hold to keep his hands trapped within. He kept them twisted into fists so that they might not creep out with their own intent to press disquieted fingers against his trespassed flesh. He had been doing it for the last three days; trying to re-enact that moment, to understand exactly what _she_ had done to him.

But it just wasn't the same. When he placed his own hands over his hollowed chest there was nothing, only the registration of his hand pressing against the chasm. There was none of the warmth or sound that had erupted within him on the spire.

He had _heard_ her. As soon as her palm had sealed off the hole in his chest the world had become deafening, suffocating even. Through that small moment of contact he had heard the verve that was within her, could hear her heart beating rapidly, her muscles moving, stretching, her breath swelling in her chest, the pumping of her blood through tiny veins that ran through her body like a vast root system – he had heard life itself existing within her frail body.

Through the warmth of her hands and the heat emanating from her body he had even been able to taste her, to understand her. Her optimism, her curiosity, her sorrow for being lonely, her yearning thoughts about being so far from home, the fear of living in a place so unlike what she had always known, the boredom and anxiety and the small things that she interacted with daily to keep her sane.

He had understood all of this within only a few of her palpitating heart beats. Through the connection of touch from his hole to her hand he had received a glimpse within her human mind and it had awoken a faint echoing of remembrance within him. He had actually recalled some of the emotions he had deadened when he had become an Espada…

Ulquiorra physically reeled back from the thought. That wasn't for him, that wasn't the path he had chosen. He could gain nothing by chasing such useless thoughts. He had severed the ties to his human side when he had taken up the hollow mantle. Like an amputee, he could remember the sensations of movement but it was useless to remember the motions when there was no vessel with which to move through. His heart was only groping after the scent of life with ghost fingers.

"Feelin a lil' under the weather are we?" Ulquiorra only turned his head slightly to greet Gin as he approached. There was something about Gin that Ulquiorra never trusted (not that he really trusted anybody). He thought it was that smile of his, it was just too big. It was mocking and sinister; a combination he was not entirely in favour of.

"No, there is nothing out of order."

The edges of the grin spread impossibly further, "I figured there must be somethin' up if even Ulquiorra were shirking his duties. It'd be fine o' course, if yer weren't up for it anymore. There are plenty of other hollow's in the sea to take care of the lil' misses in yer stead. If that was what you wanted o' course."

Ulquiorra stood a moment longer in held silence, staring deeply into that undefinable mask that was the ex-shinigami's face, before shrugging and turning away.

"There is no need to go to such extremes. I will continue to monitor the charge until such a point where she is no longer needed. I have been careful to preserve her well being as requested."

Ulquiorra didn't bother to look back or wait for a reply from Gin as he strode down the corridor. But as he rounded the next bend his hand retrieved itself from his left pocket to treacherously cover the exposed hole on his chest.

The only sound he heard as walked towards his charge's cell was the click, click, click of his shoes on the stone floor. Nothing more.

--


	8. Chapter 7

**His Revelation**

_She is sinking. Deeper and deeper she falls through a land so cold and empty it was as if it were made of nothingness __**[a negative space]**__ yet altogether too confining. It is choking her, filling her lungs and surrounding her body - suspending it. _

_She tries to take a breath but a thick liquid files into her lungs, making her cough as air bubbles struggle from her nose and mouth. _'I'm in water!'

_She throws her eyes open at the sudden revelation. The water is an icy tomb around her, she flails her limbs in an effort to resurface but she just keeps sinking deeper and deeper. There is a light above the surface; she can see it flickering like an erratic guide. _

'Wait for me!'_ She wants to cry, but as she opens her mouth more water fills in to drown out her words. The bubbles issue up from her lips to dance around that brightness and tremble against the surface._

'I can't make it.'_ Her breast begins to ache, a black hole in her chest has opened up to smother the light above her and envelope her in darkness._

'I guess I'm not strong enough.'_ Her limbs stop struggling and fan out in an embrace beside her. She closes her eyes and quenches her breath as she sinks deeper into the absolute abyss._

_--_

The dream fell away from Inoue, leaving her with a dizzying sensation of vertigo. She scrunched up her nose as she always did after a bad dream, as if she smelt something rotten, before pushing back the clinging bed sheet to sit up.

Inoue managed to get her breathing under control as she pushed her clammy hands against her eyes. She had had that dream before, and always it ended before she reached the bottom. She hadn't decided yet whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"I thought people were supposed to be still when they slept? You thrash around like a goddam fish out of water."

Inoue all but leapt out of her bed in fright, her heart thundering in her ears. "G-Grimmjow?" The sexta Espada ignored her surprise as he paced around her small room with little enthusiasm. His arms were crossed on his chest as he strutted about, toeing the sparse objects in her room as if to check for signs of life.

Eventually he turned back to her with a scoff, "What a shitty little room." Inoue frowned at the insinuation that she actually had a choice as to how her room was. If _only_ they had let her decorate her cell! If she had been allowed to she would have covered the walls with stickers and posters…or maybe just cut out the middle man and put on some wallpaper, probably yellow and blue stripes. The window would have been bigger too with a ledge she could sit on with tasseled cushions and a huge bed with brocaded sheets and-

"Oi!" The bean bags and matching kotatsu were pushed from her mind as Inoue recalled where she was. She looked over at the now irritated Espada with confusion. "Do you stand there and day dream with that stupid look on your face with all your guests?" Inoue shifted uneasily, "Well I don't really get any guests here I guess. I think you're the first person to visit me without an agenda."

She caught her breath as she remembered suddenly that the sexta Espada was actually _not_ the first person to visit her, there had been another who had come also in the early hours of the morning unexpectedly. And she had been as equally confused and shocked then too.

"Ha! You think I have no agenda?" Inoue shrugged uncertainly in response as Grimmjow mockingly lengthened his smile. "I am not in the habit of cavorting with human girls for the heck of it."

"Then why are you here Grimmjow-san?" The arrancar shifted his folded arms from his chest to his hips indignantly. "To work out an arrangement of course."

There was a pregnant pause as Grimmjow waited for a response. But Inoue kept silent, still clueless as to what it was he wanted.

"To settle the score."

Inoue swallowed, was he talking in code? Had she missed some kind of signal as to how to translate his cryptic words? She repeated the two phrases in her head trying to puzzle out their hidden meaning, all the while being watched by a very agitated arrancar who was growing more impatient by the second.

And then it hit her, the answer was so obvious. 'Arrangement' – 'Score'.

"Grimmjow-san, you want to write music?"

There was a small moment after her words had been uttered when Inoue, oblivious to the mistake in her assumptions, had never been in more danger. _I could just kill her now; it would end my debt and this idiocy. I could just split open that empty head of hers and be done with it._

But he didn't. Grimmjow managed to keep his hands balanced on his hips and his blade left in his belt. "Debt." He managed to spit out from teeth that were grinding in restraint. "For my arm."

There weren't that many times when Inoue had been very embarrassed, her mistakes usually went right over her head. But as she suddenly realized how wrong she had been her face began to redden in humiliation. How could she have possibly thought an _Espada_ would come to wake her up in the middle of the night to write _music?_ She hurried past her mistake, desperate to leave her embarrassment behind.

"Why would Grimmjow-san think that he owed me for healing his arm?" She didn't have to fake the incredulity in her voice to sound humble; the thought really had never occurred to her.

"You think I have no honor?" Grimmjow all but spat the words at her. Inoue tried not to recoil at his vehemence as she shook her head. "It is not that I thought you had no honor. But every time I put a human expectation on an arrancar I am told 'we are nothing alike.'"

"We _are_ nothing alike."

"Maybe that is why I can never seem to understand any of you. But you really needn't think I hold a debt against you for your arm, that wasn't why I did it."

"Then why did you do it?" The answer didn't just come to her. Inoue tried to recall the event clearly. She had been told to do it yes, but she wasn't entirely sure that had been the reason why she had. It was just second nature now; to heal those who are wounded. Did she regret it…would she do it again? She knew that answer well enough at least. It wasn't in her to not help another out. One good deed deserves another, wasn't that what everyone always said?

"Because I had the power to fix it."

Inoue couldn't tell if this answer satisfied Grimmjow for he just made a sound through his nose before turning aside to re-survey her minimalistic room.

"Maybe as repayment for my arm, I won't kill that bastard shinigami. Just beat him to within an inch of his life instead." He turned to flash her a wicked grin. She didn't return the humor. "Why are you so obsessed with fighting Kurosaki-kun?"

"Because he is my prey. Once started, the fight can't just be stopped. It will be over when there is a victor." He spoke as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. She didn't know if it was because she was dumb or just ignorant, but Inoue couldn't understand such logic. "But why?"

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes upon her and stepped closer. He took her jaw in his much larger hands and turned her face up towards him. Their difference in height and size was palpable; he physically dominated her in every sense of the word. But for some reason, at that moment, she didn't feel frightened by his physicality.

She was the mouse in the lion's den, but she didn't feel the need to tremble before him. As his teal eyes searched through her own, digging deeply into them and rummaging across her face, she realized she was coming closer to understanding this being. The thrill of the abecedarian was numbing her fear. She just wanted to know more.

When he spoke, his breath brushed warmth against her skin. "Because that is the unspoken rule of this world; the strong dominate the weak and the victors are the ones who get to live another day. There is nothing else here to sustain us but the fight, the hunt is what thrills us, what consumes us. In this nothingness, we cling to the only thing that gives us drive, which impassions and emboldens us to rise from the sepulcher of this hell hole. It is what keeps us _alive._"

His words ran through her, hummed through her bones. She couldn't speak, she couldn't even breath. The fear had come back, crept up on her through his words. She was beginning to understand them, just as she had wanted, but it was a double edged blade. She could understand this world and the beings that occupied it but she was not suited to this place. Her mind rebelled at such 'rules', that wasn't the kind of life she wanted. She didn't want to be a killer; she didn't want to hunger after the thrill of a hunt, but most of all she didn't want to _understand_ how someone else could.

The imprint of Grimmjow's fingers on her skin was beginning to burn. She wanted to tear her eyes away from his, didn't want to look into their empty depths anymore because now she knew, they weren't so empty. The Espada weren't just mindless beings struggling against things they didn't understand like other hollows she had encountered. Grimmjow knew _exactly_ what he was and he was not disgusted or upset by it, he was thrilled by it. He embraced his killer's instinct.

"What are you doing, Grimmjow?"

Inoue and Grimmjow's eye contact held for a second longer before the sexta smiled then let go of her face. Inoue took a breath, the first since his words, as she resisted the urge to rub at the spot where his fingers had previously been. She didn't look up either as Grimmjow strode past Ulquiorra, making certain to walk just close enough so that their shoulders bumped together violently.

"Nothing, I wasn't doing nothing at all."

Then the cell door groaned shut and left them in silence, the girl and the monster.

Inoue mentally flinched away from the word… 'monster'. She hadn't thought of the Espada as such for a long time. But Grimmjow's words were still echoing within her, whispering in her ear; _killer, killer, killer…_

"What were you doing?"

"Nothing." She shook her head to try to be more convincing but she didn't think it worked.

"What did he do?"

"Nothing." She clasped her hands to her chest to try to still their shaking, but still she couldn't turn to face him.

"Why won't you look at me when you say that?"

She heard the soft click of his heels on the ground and began to panic. She couldn't think of anything to do, she couldn't even stop this damnable shaking. "I…I um… that is I-"

She was a-washed with a sense of sudden déjà vu as a hand reached out to hold her chin and direct her face towards another. But this time her skin was hot and flushed and the fingers that traced along her chin delicately were so cool.

With no other choice, she met Ulquiorra's eyes. Reluctantly she tried to find it, that hint of animalism she had seen in Grimmjow's eyes that craze. But all she could see was herself reflected in the orbs of those too-green eyes, they were empty.

"Warmth." His word was so quiet, almost smothered by the noise of her thundering heart. She felt the fingers on her face move ever so slightly, rubbing length ways across her skin so that the whole finger was extended to the touch. "I had forgotten that sensation."

--


	9. Chapter 8

**Her Liberation **

He could hear her again, she was so _alive_. And warm…he had forgotten what that sensation even felt like. And she was it, she was warmth. Her body, her eyes, her words all of her was warm.

He hadn't understood when she had complained of the cold here but he understood now. He wasn't warm. His body, his eyes his words…they were cold. Dead and cold.

He hadn't desired anything since being here, he had fought and served but he didn't desire those things, they were a means for survival. He had just been surviving all this time. Desire was a feeling of the heart, he had given that up. So then why was he so full of it now?

It had echoed first through the hole in his chest, he had heard life and remembered it but not intimately. No, he couldn't really remember living; it wasn't as if he could simply look back and recall 'oh that was what it was like'.

He had let that life go; he had severed himself from it and been reborn. These feelings weren't entirely immediate, they were only remembered. It was like someone had blindfolded him and made him hold a pile of warm sand. If he ever saw it again from afar he wouldn't be able to tell it had been the thing he had touched, he could only ever recall the sensation of it in his hands.

This was it. With his fingers climbing greedily across her skin he could feel the sensation of it in his hand, but he still didn't know what it was. And the urge to remember was surprisingly strong.

"Ulquiorra-san?"

He was pulled back to reality. The reality of him - an Espada - desiring to touch her - a human. It was almost laughable.

He dropped his hand, sliding it back into his pocket as if nothing were to be of concern. But even though the touch was severed he could still hear her, echoing through his bones. _Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump…_

"Duties desisted me from being able to monitor your condition as usual, but I have come to check that everything is still to a satisfactory standard. You have been consuming all your meals at the appointed hour?"

Her eyes, so round, were staring up at him. Glassing over with tears he could not understand. There was a moment, poised between them where the balance was being righted. But it would only take the smallest of pushes to send it reeling back. She seemed less confident, less defiant. He had to push her down now before his mistakes wrought themselves consequences.

Eventually the silence defeated her and her mouth just moved on without her. "Yes."

Then it all fell into precedent order. In came the cart, rattling on its hinges, down sat the charge to eat accompanied by the satisfying clink of metal against porcelain and of course the silence.

She wiped her mouth on the napkin, head bowed as he watched her. "Are you finished?"

"Yes."

Ah, submission. Something familiar for once.

--

The water sloshed into the tub messily, sending a warm spray onto Inoue' skin as she watched the bath fill. She watched it with a determination that was a bit over the top for simply filling up a bath. But she had to keep it simple, had to stick to her tasks. If her mind was allowed to wander she might start to rethink her decision, might reconsider her plan.

When the water level rose to a hand span below the lip of the tub she shut off the faucet and stood over the amassed water. The steam was rising from the surface, inviting her to join it. She smiled at the familiar scene. "Trust yourself Inoue, only the foolish question they're own instincts. In battle, one must always be confident." She nodded her head determinedly as the faint sounds of her dinner appointment sounded outside.

She darted from the bathroom and waited for the heavy door of her cell to swing open, her fingers crossed behind her back.

He didn't say anything, probably because he really didn't need to. They had done this many times before and both of them knew their place. Inoue crept over to the chair and sat down complacently. She ate her meal while he watched over her diligently, making sure every morsel crossed over her lips.

"Are you finished?"

"Not quite yet." Inoue's voice shook a little as she spoke. She clasped her hands in her lap and sat up a little straighter. _Confidence, you have to follow your heart and believe in what you feel is right._

"I wanted to discuss our agreement." She forced herself to look into his eyes. They were cold and empty, staring back at her with less enthusiasm then he might place upon staring at a wall. _Persist._

"W-we had an agreement. That is, an onus of care."

He narrowed his eyes upon her suspiciously, "An onus of care?"

She nodded. "Yes, an onus of care. And in any agreement I think it is important for both parties to be able to understand one another to a degree and to feel a sense of commitment to following through with that agreement. I don't believe our arrangement has that."

He hadn't moved at all, not even to bat an eyelash at her ramblings.

"When you enter an arrangement between two parties, it is an endeavour shared between you _both_. I think it is in the best interest of both parties if-"

"This is wasting my time."

Inoue leapt up as Ulquiorra turned to leave. She made a mad dash across the room, catching onto the edges of his coat tails in sudden desperation.

"Let go."

"No."

"I do not wish to have to repeat myself."

Inoue's fist tightened around his uniform. She felt so small, like a child clutching at her mother's skirts. She could feel his eyes upon, a cold stare that barely masked his annoyance. But her grip didn't falter, and again she chanted to herself. _You must believe in yourself, in your instincts. In your nature._

"I…"

She swallowed, desperate to bring some moisture to her dry tongue.

"I don't want things to go back to the way they were in the beginning. You might not think it, but I feel like we have come along way…I didn't understand this world at all when I came here. It was so…it wasn't mine, it wasn't familiar. But I'm learning!"

Inoue dared to look back up at Ulquiorra. He was still staring at her, and the expression on his face hadn't changed, but there was still something different. It gave her courage.

"I'm learning" She repeated, "and I don't want to stop. And I think it's the same for you. We are curious now aren't we? About each other, about…well everything. And I don't want to feel embarrassed about it. There is nothing wrong with being curious; even if it did supposedly kill a cat…but being curious has never been bad for me. If I wasn't so curious and asked so many questions all the time, I wouldn't know anything about anyone! I wouldn't know what Tatsuki's favourite food is, or what her dreams are. I wouldn't know that Chad doesn't really like fighting movies with lots of action, or that Uryuu's favourite colour is white, or that Kuchiki thinks drawing is an easy way of explaining things that are complex.

"And some people might think all those things are just useless bits of knowledge, but they're not. They are very important; they tell me more about the people around me, they help me understand. I want to understand Ulquiorra; I want to know more about you. And yesterday I think I learnt something really important."

Her fingers were still tight around the edges of his uniform, even after her words faded into silence. He hadn't moved yet. She was waiting for him now; she put herself out there without thoughts of fear. If he walked away she would give up and swallow her pride. She would detach herself completely. But if he didn't….

"What did you learn yesterday?"

Inoue smiled up at him, feeling so stupidly relieved by his words. "I will show you."

--

The sensation was overbearing, coming down upon him like a tidal wave to break through his sense and awash him with nostalgia. It was almost too painful to analyse every thought and feeling that flickered past him in flashes. But underneath the frenzied chaos was just the predominating thought of warmth. He was warm.

He looked at his hands beneath the water. The rippling surface distorted them, making them seem grossly thin then impossibly bent, like a distorted mirror. But it couldn't warp the colour. Even underwater his skin was still white, like sterile bone.

He lifted his hands up and watched as hot water cascaded from his fingers, trickling down through the contours of his palm to splash noisily.

The dynamics of the water changed dramatically as Inoue shifted in the tub, sending a wave of water sloshing over the edge to slap against the bathroom floor. It was lucky the tub was so large; otherwise it might have been uncomfortable for them both to be in it. They weren't touching at the moment, but every now and again one of their legs would slip and a foot or calf might brush against another. They ignored these instances, just as they had so forth avoided making eye contact.

He had to understand this sensation himself first, before he gave anything away. He hadn't even decided yet whether he disliked it or not. It was uncomfortable at times, like when his uniform clung to his body when it was not suspended in water. But his logic told him he could not detest it entirely, else he would have gotten out already. It was just…so foreign. This feeling that was sinking into his bones that rose up into the air to tickle his face. At the moment he was just trying to get used to it.

He watched as Inoue cupped her hands carefully under the surface, lifting the captured water up and staring intently at the reflection it held there. He had the urge to look at what held her attention so acutely, but he knew he wouldn't see what she did so instead he just looked at her hands.

"Your fingers look strange." The spell was suddenly broken as Inoue dropped the water. She looked up at Ulquiorra, her head tilted slightly, then down at her hands. She smiled.

"They are wrinkly from being in the water for so long. Like prunes. Are your finger's wrinkly too Ulquiorra?"

He thought the question was stupid, but looked down at his own hands anyway. With shock he found that on the tips there were indeed small waves of crumpled skin rising up. He brought them closer to his face, thinking surely it must be a trick of his eyes, but his fingers really were wrinkled.

"Why are they like that?"

"It's just from the water; it's made them all soft. See?"

She reached across, unthinkingly, to place her fingers over his own. He felt her skin upon him with heightened sensitivity.

"Your skin is soft too." She smiled at him again, her face a mask of pleasure as their wrinkly, soft fingers remained pressed together. "And warm, your skin is really warm."

--

**I am sorry this update was so late, but the recent events published in Bleach have been keeping me 0.0 I just had to know how it all went before I could think about continuing…but my curiosity is satisfied now, so thank you all for your patience.**

**Regards, Eia**


	10. Chapter 9

**His Reciprocation**

Inoue could feel the sheets growing damp beneath her. She hadn't bothered to change out of her uniform since exiting the bath, only wrapped a towel around her shoulders and allowed the water trapped within the folds of her uniform to drip onto the floor or be soaked up in her bedding.

At any other time she might have worried about it, but it all seemed like useless details right now that were cluttering around more important things. Like how lovely the tips of Ulquiorra's wet hair looked as they clung to his skin in little filigree curls. Or how long his abdomen appeared in proportion to the rest of his body and simply how wonderful it felt to finally feel like she had some sort of companion in this place.

Inoue watched Ulquiorra as he economically hung his jacket over the edge of a chair, the coat tails trailing across the ground like soaked fingers. He seemed unperturbed by thoughts of modesty with only the bottom half of his uniform remaining.

Inoue let the towel fall from around her shoulders as she struggled to undo the clasp on her own jacket. She peeled off the wet cape that clung to her back and like wise spread it out to dry. She considered taking off the top layer of her uniform but paused. The last time she had done something like that Uryuu had become quite frantic. Would it bother Ulquiorra in the same manner she wondered?

She looked over to her wet counterpart to try to gauge an answer, but Ulquiorra wasn't really there. Oh he was standing next her, sure enough. But his eyes were unfocused and his body lax, leaning slightly in a strange posture as if he was slowly tipping over. But his expression wasn't empty by any means. The emotions and hints of thought that kept flickering across his face were constant. She wondered at how different people could be that something as simple as taking a warm bath could affect him thus.

With sudden concern she reached out to touch his arm tentatively. "Ulquiorra?"

He took in a deep breath that seemed to right the lean in his gait before turning his eyes slowly upon her. His look wasn't stern or empty it was… neutral.

"You're still wet." He said the words with little emotion, just stating the fact.

"So are you."

Ulquiorra nodded gravely, as if she had given him some sage advice he now counselled. Inoue encouraged him to keep talking. "Was it alright? I mean, did the bath feel ok?"

"It made me feel…soft. And vulnerable." _Like you._

She heard the unvoiced words and strangely took heart in them. She smiled up at him suddenly. "But it didn't feel bad?"

He shook his. "No. Not bad. Only different." _Like you._

Inoue crossed her arms to touch the bare skin of her shoulders. Her skin was slowly cooling in the night air. She continued the short stopping catalogue of their sensations. "My skin is getting cooler."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, cold can be good. Sometimes I like being cold. It's refreshing."

"Do you want to be colder?" _Like me._

"I do."

And she did. Inoue found the realisation a bit startling. She had complained about the 'cold' she felt here on more than one occasion. She had always only ever had the desire to be warmer until now.

"I can make you colder. Is that alright?" Ulquiorra asked.

"Yes, I would like to feel like you." She replied, finally voicing those silent words

--

The wind howled through her ears in a deafening roar as she went ever higher. In instinct she flung out her bare arms to catch the air currents as they swirled and eddied about her. She felt like a bird… no more like a rocket, shooting up towards the heavens in an unstoppable flight for freedom. She didn't open her eyes, only concentrated on the sensations that were touching her violently.

Her whole body was alight with a cold fire that raced across her skin like pins and needles and burrowed down into her flesh. She felt unbreakable, like her limbs had been frozen and hardened with her passage. Impossible that someone as heavy and as strong as she could charge through the air as if she weighed no more than a feather. The contradiction in her feelings was exhilarating; she was beyond normal ideals of physics. She was powerful enough to be able to bend such laws. She was above everything, and quite literally too.

Inoue turned her face downwards and dared to open her eyes in confirmation. Below her billowing skirts she was able to catch glimpses of the monstrous white towers of Hueco Mundo, which now looked small and insignificant at this height-a pebble beneath her feet.

A voice managed to reach her over the shouting wind. "Do you want to go higher?"

She nodded her head enthusiastically, sending her long hair whipping about her face as she shouted back. "Higher!"

The grip on her waist (which she had forgotten was even there) tightened slightly as their speed increased a little more. The wind's roar was an orchestra churning in her ears and she could no longer raise her head high for the pressure upon it…but she had never felt so incredible.

She opened her eyes again despite the fact that the wind tore the moisture from them almost immediately. She wanted to savour every part of this feeling, wanted to engrave every image she could in her mind.

They burst through the last level of cloud cover and their mad dash slowed so abruptly that Inoue's body lifted as if without gravity. The hands at her waist let go and she felt herself suspended, alone, amongst the stars. She had entered a new plain of existence. The clouds were the ground in this foreign place and the moon and stars were levelled on the horizon, like a forest.

Her legs curled up towards her body and her arms splayed out around her. She wondered if it looked like she had just jumped up to this height with her body in such a position, as she reached the crescendo in her rise.

There was a pause in time then as if the world had stopped. She was neither rising nor falling and the wind had quieted its song into silence. Her body was as thin as the air itself but as indestructible as stone, her blood frozen in her veins. She was completely still-at the centre of the world; at the half way point between heaven and earth.

Like a God.

Then gravity came back and pushed her down from her place in heaven. She fell backwards, first watching as the clouds rushed past her face and kissed her skin in farewell before she tumbled in the air and managed to turn about completely. Now she was free falling towards the ground, watching as the specs of colour turned into white shapes, then buildings and trees emerged from the chaos.

But she wasn't afraid. She was indestructible. She could plummet to the earth at this speed and her body would only push lightly against the ground like air. But she never got to test this theory as a pair of forgotten arms moved to encircle her and slow her maddened decent.

Inoue was still in a daze as her feet touched upon the solid stone of the tower. The hands that had carried her down let go gently, expecting her to be able to support herself on this familiar territory. But Inoue's legs didn't do their job as such and she crumpled to the ground.

For a moment Ulquiorra feared that there was something wrong with Inoue, was she hurt? Why didn't she stand?

He bent down to check on her in consternation but halted as soon as Inoue's face was revealed. Plastered upon her almost bloodless lips was the broadest smile he had ever seen her wear.

"I was flying! In the sky, I was really flying!" Inoue rubbed her hands in disbelief and touched the cold skin of her bare shoulders where the wind had stroked them in a cold embrace. "Did you see me Ulquiorra?"

He didn't answer her at first, only watched her excited eyes stare off into the memory of mere minutes before. Though after a moment he noticed that her arms were no longer steady, in fact most of her body seemed to be shaking. "What is wrong with your body?"

Inoue looked up in confusion. He had to elaborate, "Your trembling."

Orihime raised her hands out in front of her then laughed nervously as they shook uncontrollably. "I guess I am a bit cold, I didn't really notice till now."

"Your body does that when its cold?"

Inoue nodded as she finally managed to stand. With her hair tousled roughly from the flight, her face and lips pale from the cold air and her eyes going dark in their animation Ulquiorra thought that she looked…what was that word again? Was it beautiful? He couldn't remember, but she was something good he thought and he also thought that she might have something that, for once, he actually desired.

He couldn't remember a comparison

**--**


	11. Chapter 10

**Her Sanctuary**

There were words battering against her soft senses, loud words that were laced with frustration. She tried to focus her thoughts upon them but they were like wet fish that kept slipping through her stumbling fingers. She pushed a hot hand across her forehead, wiping the sweat from her brow back into her hairline as she tried to steady her focus.

She could see his feet outside her sanctuary door, stationary while the owner's voice persisted in its battering assault.

"I will not play games like a child woman, if you do not agree to come out I will force you to vacate the…"

Inoue smiled secretively; she had never heard Ulquiorra stumble for a word before. It was such an ordinary thing to do.

"Cubbyhouse." She provided, trying not to giggle as she imagined the perturbed look he would be giving her through the tented sheets.

She braced herself against the harem of cushions she had assorted as a wave of giddiness passed over her. The fever had settled in now and she was in the full thrall of it. But what else could she expect after wearing wet clothes out in such windy and cold conditions?

But Inoue regretted nothing, if she were to go back to that moment she would do it all again without hesitation. After all, when would she ever get another opportunity to fly like that?

"Answer me woman."

Ah, so he had reverted back to calling her 'woman' now. To be honest, she hadn't even heard his question but she thought it best to answer promptly before he refused to refer to her at all in his anger.

"My brother used to build me a cubbyhouse out of bedding whenever I got sick. He said I could put all my bad feelings in there to be trapped later and left behind…like a cleansing." Inoue smiled at the memory of her brother's gentle face gilded as the sheets around them distorted the living room light.

"It is a sanctuary."

There was an extended silence after her words before the roof of her house was torn down violently to reveal a pair of dissatisfied green eyes.

"I will not play games like a child." He repeated.

Inoue could only smile at Ulquiorra's stern words. He was certainly a far stretch from her brother's smiling face, but somehow his presence was still reassuring. She tried to imagine the Espada building a cubby house out of sheets and sitting in amongst the confining folds, his knees tucked up under his chin. The image was pleasingly comical.

The giggle she had been holding onto finally escaped but Inoue didn't worry about it too much, the throbbing that was beginning to press against the back of her skull took precedence this time.

Ulquiorra frowned at the stupid look on her face as she smiled up at him. "What is wrong with you?"

"It is only a fever, I will be alright."

"A fever? You are ill?"

She nodded in response, falling deeper into the cushions.

"Why?"

"Hmm? Why what?"

Why are you sick?"

The question caught her for a moment. It was simple enough yet at the same entirely too complicated. "Well…it just happens from time to time. Sometimes when you get too hot or too cold or tired and stressed your body can't handle it and gets sick. I guess my trip outside was just a little too much for me." Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes at her reply. "That is what made you sick?"

She didn't seem to hear him, only concentrated on taking a deep shuddering breath.

How could he have forgotten how weak she was? How fragile her human body could be. It wasn't just about physical strength, though he could probably crush her small skull between his hands with some effort. Her bones and skin were not as tough as his own; he could easily impress his own hardened appendages upon her and tear her soft flesh apart. But even if he didn't physically crush her, if he kept her safe from physical assault-that warm, living body of hers could still fall prey to sickness and disease. She could be killed by a force he couldn't even physically fight against.

Ulquiorra clenched the folds of the sheet he still held for a moment longer before lifting it and settling it, albeit a little un-assuredly, around her small frame.

Then he move forward, propelled by actions whose precedence he could not truly remember but whose motions still lingered somewhere in his unconscious. First he pushed her damp bangs back and smoothed his open palm across her forehead.

He had always found her subsequent 'warmth' uncomfortable, even at the best of times, but now the heat from her burning skin was like coals brushing against his fingertips. Though his first reaction was to reel back at such temperature there was another voice creeping in to whisper that it was alright; the fever's burn was good.

As the sensation of his cold hands on her skin sank in, Inoue let out a small sigh of relief.

_Ah yes, _he thought, _keep her head cool. _

He turned to the pitcher of water that stood duty on the side table day and night. He poured her a generous glass and brought the cup to her lips. Her eyes widened in surprise as the cool liquid hit her mouth, some of the water overflowing down her chin and neck. Ulquiorra lifted the edge of the sheet and wiped the wetness from her face and neck.

She mumbled something incoherently as he went about his ministrations but he didn't really pause, just tore a decently sized strip off the end of the blanket and proceeded to dampen the square of cloth. For a moment he was reminded of a similar occasion when he had gone through familiar motions, but he dismissed the thought almost instantly as unnecessary.

He laid the cooling cloth across her brow and straightened to look down upon his patient. He could tell she would be asleep soon, her deep breathing already beginning to slow and even itself out into a steady rhythm.

The small section of her face which was left exposed between the sheets and the damp cloth showed signs of perspiration. '_That is good; let her sweat the sickness out.'_

Ulquiorra no longer questioned where such assured knowledge came from. It was obvious some human instinct still lingered within him. It was owing to logic that some of those memories would be retained even after death, if not specific then at least holistic in regards to such things. After all he had been human once, he would have no doubt come across sickness in his own life time…

…when he had been human. It was only for a moment, another one of those thoughts that always seemed to flash into his mind and leave a trail of unwanted ideas in their wake. But it lingered within him, a sudden curiosity in regards to his previous life. Had he been like her? Fanciful and naïve? Always thinking of somewhere else, different times and places that quite often had little bearing to the current reality? Or had he been a more logical person, more grounded and serious?

The thought only lasted a few heart beats before it was shoved back down into obscurity. But still, just thinking the thought alone had touched him, had tainted him. Had made him more human.

--

**Short update I know, but fear not another is on the way. I have to apologies to those following this fic. I know I fell behind with updating (I have to admit, the events in the manga pertaining to Ulquiorra were shock to say the least) but alas, it shall not happen again. The end is nigh and I am eager to finish this story once and for all. So thank you everyone for your encouragement and support. **

**Regards, Eia**


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